


I Dreamt I Was A Rat

by neverevesangel



Category: Original Work
Genre: Short Story
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-16
Updated: 2019-11-16
Packaged: 2021-02-01 07:57:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 546
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21449197
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/neverevesangel/pseuds/neverevesangel
Summary: A fugitive and a rat, and the madness of the hunted.
Kudos: 2





	I Dreamt I Was A Rat

Neri did not return in the morning, or the day after. The boy’s promise rang hollow in the silence.

I spend my waking hours looking for light in my shelter-turned-prison until I heard a creaking upstairs. It felt natural now, to slide underneath the bed fast and silently, and I lay there holding my breath. The grime of the floorboards clung to me, and the dust clung to the grime. Coated in it, I became another deserted thing in someone else’s basement.

It was the rat that came scurrying down the stairs eventually. When I saw it and realised it had made the noise, I burst into tears. It was not relief I felt. Somehow it seemed the rat had cheated me out of my salvation.

Later, when I had come out of my hiding place, I went to look for it. Neri had warned me not go upstairs where any curious passer-by could spot me through the dirty windows. But I had come to terms with death already today – waited for it in the dirt and the cobwebs – and in the absence of fear, only a vague sense of curiosity remained. I sat down on an old chair and waited.

The rat came out eventually. I heard it before I saw it, the scratching of its tiny claws on wood. It gave me a long, wary stare before deciding I was harmless and going about its business. I watched it, motionlessly. I waited.

Someone had told me once that rats were cleverer than cats. It was why they survived anywhere. But this rat seemed to be the exception because there was a mouldy crumb to my left and it was either too stupid or too hungry to be afraid.

I grabbed its tail when it tried to run past me and suddenly the screeching filled the stuffy silence and it was ringing in my ears. I held it at arm’s length to keep it from biting me, held it upside down as I walked to the wall.

There was a sickening crunch and the screeching stopped when I slammed it against the wall for the second time, but I didn’t stop until I had turned it into a mush of meat and bones. When I dropped it onto the floor, it landed with a dull thud and didn’t move. It still looked like a rat, only the neck was twisted at an odd angle.

Without warning, my stomach turned and I threw up the remains of a meagre breakfast next to the grey little corpse. My throat burned and suddenly my eyes were stinging, too. I extended one hand to touch the mangled body. It was still warm.

At dusk, I buried the body, below a floorboard I had yanked out. I placed the little thing into a bed of spider webs and replaced the plank. The funeral was a short thing because we ran out of sunlight after a while.

I retreated to my bed and said a prayer for the dead, although I knew there was no sanctity for them here and I would grow hungry soon enough. I knew the floorboard where I would find a meal below.

I closed my eyes and I slept, and I dreamt I was a rat.

**Author's Note:**

> This is the first story in a very long time to come to me from absolutely nowhere. It began with the first sentence. I feel like I should have added some sort of warning about the content but I wanted to avoid spoiling anything. Concrit and comments are always appreciated!


End file.
